Healing Hands
by katierosefun
Summary: It seems that Clara's words were a bit more hurtful than she had intended. [Light Whouffaldi fluff or strong friendship. Set shortly after 8x08, but has a few references to 8x07.]


**Who totally died in _Mummy on the Orient Express? _Because I did! Whouffaldi is end game, peoples. Clara definitely said "I love you" to the Doctor and you cannot convince me otherwise. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Healing Hands <em>

xXx

Clara Oswald slammed her keys down on her dresser the minute she was in the safety of her bedroom. She closed the door behind herself and instantaneously slid to the ground, covering her face with her hands. She had done it again – let her stupid, soloist mouth have the wrong words slip out. Another fight, that was what it was – another fight caused by _her _because she just _couldn't _keep her thoughts to herself.

_Danny Pink, _Clara thought miserably to herself, bringing her knees to her chest. (And not even caring that she was wearing a skirt. No one was in the room, and to be honest, Clara didn't really care if someone caught a glimpse at her underwear at the moment.) _Why, oh why was it so hard to pin down a solid relationship with someone? _

And why did Clara keep lying? She knew it as well as Danny – knew it as well as _anyone _– but she kept saying the wrong, _false_, _heartbreaking _words to keep herself afloat. But _why? _What bad thing could come out of telling the truth? The truth about _anything_, that is?

"Suppose you could hurt everyone else," Clara murmured, and with another groan, she shuffled herself against her dresser instead. "Suppose you could, suppose you could, suppose you could…"

"Suppose you could _what?_"

Clara jumped, startled, and looked up with narrowed (watery) eyes at the Doctor's towering figure. He was standing directly in front of her, eyes wide and head tilted in bewilderment. "You've been repeating yourself for a while," he said quickly after as Clara continued to stare up at him. "Figured I might as well bring an end to it."

"How long have you been –"

"Right here, remember?" The Doctor turned and patted the TARDIS with his hand. "Like I've always been."

Clara sighed. Of course – she forgot that the Doctor liked to park in her bedroom these days. She must have gotten so used to it that it simply slipped out of her mind. (Clara couldn't decide whether she was happy or annoyed at that sudden arrangement.) She stood up, and brushing the tears away from her eyes the best she could, said, "Couldn't you have at least given me some privacy?"

The Doctor leaned against the TARDIS, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling. "There's a chance I _could have, _but that wouldn't be me." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "It'd be boring." He pushed open the TARDIS door and pointed inside. "Which I think we don't need right now, if you know what I mean." Clara's shoulders sagged immediately. She shook her head and murmured, "Not today, Doctor."

The Doctor frowned. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because I need some time to sulk," Clara shot back. She jutted her finger out the door and mustering as much indignance in her voice as she possibly could, added, "I've had an a_wful _day and I just _need _to think by _myself _for once and you can't even grant me that!" When the Doctor didn't interrupt right away, Clara continued with her voice growing increasingly louder, "On top of all that, I'm _pretty _sure that I made myself look like an absolute _idiot _in front of most of the school staff by arguing with one of the teachers and some of the _students _even saw it!" Aggravated, Clara pushed past the Doctor and jumped into her bed. "And now I've got some of them _asking _about what I was talking about and the simple fact is that I _can't _tell them what I was talking about because if I _do_, it'll mean that I'll be giving away _so many secrets _and I really, _really _don't want to do that!" Falling back against her pillows, Clara added furiously, "And this keeps happening to me! First it was Angie and Artie, and I don't even _care _if you say you liked them – and now I don't even know _that _for sure because you're…" Clara struggled to find the right word. She could feel the Doctor boring little holes into her body with his stares now, but she couldn't bring herself to look back at him. Clara hastily ended the statement by adding, "Then it was _Danny _and then it was _Courtney _and…I _swear _the next people to find out will be all of the other students or the principal or God forbid, the _Prime Minister!_" Giving a little, hysterical giggle, Clara brought her pillow over her face.

There was a dreadfully long pause that followed after Clara's rant. She puffed out a sigh and after a while, mumbled (with her voice only slightly muffled from the pillow), "Go on, say it – I know you're thinking it."

"I…can only say that someone's obviously taken in too much coffee," Clara heard the Doctor reply. She pushed the pillow away from herself and sat up, feeling more rumpled and discombobulated than ever. "Coffee intake – yes, that's _definitely _the problem in hand," she said, not even bothering to erase the sarcasm from her voice. "Thank you _so _much for that comment, Doctor. Really. It makes me feel _so much better._"

Scowling, the Doctor retorted, "What was I supposed to say? You told me to say what I was thinking and so I did!"

Clara opened her mouth, trying for some equally snippy comeback, though when not finding anything, clicked her jaws to a close again. She groaned and pushed herself off her bed. "You know what?" she asked tiredly. "I've had a bad day. Just go back into your TARDIS and…fly away. Go on," she said, turning the Doctor around and pushing him towards the blue box by the shoulders. "Go traveling by yourself for a bit, because there is _no way _I'm going anywhere tonight. Not like _this_."

The Doctor, however, didn't go into the TARDIS. He turned his head and looked down at Clara, a peculiar expression on his face. "Is this your way of telling me to clear off again?" he asked, and to Clara's surprise, he sounded…wounded. Hurt – pained – something that Clara hadn't heard the Doctor express in a while.(_"You go a long, long way." Of course. But it's been a while since Clara and the Doctor actually fought like that – weren't they beyond that point yet? Were they? Or was Clara just overthinking this? Gah, why couldn't she just be in peace?) _

She swallowed and shook her head. "No," she replied. She cast her eyes downward to the ground. "I just need some space right now."

"Space," the Doctor said, smiling weakly. He pointed into the TARDIS. "I could give you all of that right now, ha, ha."

Clara couldn't help herself. A small smile twinged over her lips and she patted the Doctor's back with her hands again. "Lots and lots of space and time and planets and all that," she replied quietly. "But not now, please." The Doctor's smile faded. Without a word, he grabbed Clara's hand and despite her surprised protests, dragged her inside. She struggled against his grip, shouting, "I said not today, Doctor! _Not today – are you listening to me?" _

She came to an abrupt start as the Doctor plopped himself down on one of the seats, swinging Clara up towards the steps to the upper level of the TARDIS. He pointed a finger at the TARDIS console. "Anywhere, any place – you choose. Get rid of the bad day," the Doctor said simply. Clara sighed and looked up, her mind running through the possible answers she could give the Doctor without stirring up another argument or debate with him. "So, you _weren't _listening to me," she decided to say. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I _was _listening to you – and now I'm telling you to try to get _over _that bad day by choosing a place to go to." He nodded his head at the console. "Go on! We can even go see Robin Hood if you really want to."

Clara lifted an eyebrow. "As promising as _that _sounds, I'm going to have to turn down the offer." She responded and started to walk back to the doors, trying to ignore the fact that the Doctor instantly stood back up to his feet. "Besides, it's not like you haven't had adventures by yourself before." Her words left a ringing silence in the TARDIS. The Doctor stilled, his hand over the console and his eyes unsure and staring at Clara. She frowned up at him. "Doctor? Come on, we all know that I wasn't the only one," she said slowly.

"No, you weren't," the Doctor replied softly. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot (something that Clara never thought she would see him do until now,) and added, "It's just…I thought you would like to travel just a bit more today. If it wouldn't bother you too much." He drummed his fingers against the console. "Just to make up for any lost…time."

"Lost time?" Clara asked, narrowing her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor's head snapped up. "You know full well what I mean."

"No, really, I don't," Clara replied, taking a few steps forward. "So do you care to explain?"

The Doctor lifted a hand. "Two words," he murmured. "_Clear off._"

Clara's heart sank. "Is that really what this is about?" she asked. "Because I thought we were past that now. Wait, no, _you _were the one who made it clear that we were going to move on from that."

"When?" The Doctor's voice was sharp and quick, and he knew it. He closed his mouth, as though he was trying to swallow back the words, but obviously, that couldn't happen. Clara blinked. She threw her hands up in the arm and asked incredulously, "_When? _It was back when we…we got off the train! To hell with our last hurrah, remember?"

"No, _you _said that," the Doctor pointed out. "_You _were the one who didn't want to clarify if we were really past the incident."

Clara shook her head. "Fine, fine, I said that – but you still haven't answered my question." She looked at the Doctor in the eye. "Is that really what this is about?"

There was a beat of silence. Clara could almost see the gears shifting in the Doctor's head, working to come up with an answer. Clara held her breath – she knew that from here on out, the discussion could go two ways – this could either turn into another fight (which she _really _didn't want to go through), or it could turn into something…better. Not good, of course, but better. Bittersweet, maybe?

Either way, Clara Oswald wasn't sure where she was going to stand on this ground.

"_Yes_," the Doctor whispered at last.

At that, Clara allowed her hand to fall gently against the console, her pinky just barely brushing against the Doctor's hand. He didn't flinch away, but his eyes _did _dart down to Clara. Fair enough.

Clara's voice was gentle and soft when she spoke. "Well, I'm sorry, yeah?" Clara asked, nearing the Doctor. "We'll make up for the lost time, really, we will." She dared to inch her hand a bit closer to the Doctor's. Her next words were defiant and reassuring.

"And I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you sure of that?"

The corners of Clara's lips twinged upwards and this time, she let her head rest against his chest. The Doctor didn't pull back. "I said it before, didn't I?" she whispered. "To hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going."

Clara felt the Doctor inhale from underneath him and seconds later, his arms were traveling up to her shoulders. She smiled. The hugging was getting better, too – hesitant and slow, but definitely progressing. She wrapped her own arms around his middle, repeating, "Let's keep going."

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><p><strong>AN - I've already written a story with the Doctor apologizing to Clara (_A Decent Apology_, if you want to check it out), and though that was written before I even watched _Mummy on the Orient Express _or _Kill the Moon_, I was more in the mood to have Clara apologize for something. ;) **

**I struggled a bit with this story - it took me this entire day to actually whip it up and be semi-satisfied with it. (_Semi-_satisfied. Not even wholly satisfied. -.-) **

**But then my brain just went "_what the hell" _and I decided to post it, anyways. *guilty smile* **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not. **


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